House Swapping

We live in a barter economy. Clothes, unwanted presents, handbags, garden seeds – rather than buy them, canny types are now trading them. You take my tomatoes, I’ll have your unworn Gucci shoes; I’ll fix your plumbing, you pass over your unwanted DVDs. Why not go one step further? You offer someone else a week or two in your scruffy home in exchange for a fortnight in paradise. What’s not to like?

Swapping, which began with stamps and wives, is the answer to cheap holidays: last minute is so last year. All you need is an email address and an open mind – in a week or two you could be off on an adventure. At least that’s what I thought a couple of years ago when I tried to exchange my south London house for a villa in Tuscany during August.

It didn’t work, but others swear by it. My friend Susanna emailed this week to say that she, plus boyfriend and two teenagers, are borrowing a house in Yorkshire where they will be looking after two dogs, four cats, three fish and three guinea pigs. The owners with their children are borrowing a house in Northumberland from people who are renting a house in Wales. Meanwhile, her sister and boyfriend are spending a couple of weeks in her flat in Notting Hill.

“It’s great,” she crowed, “because the majority of us not only get a holiday home, we also get our animals/homes looked after. Borrowing another family house means a supply of books and games, not to mention insider knowledge about the best walks, pubs, shops.”

There are a vast array of home swap websites. Some are free; others charge around £25 a year, which ensures that although they can’t vet entries, time-wasters are unlikely to list themselves. Then it’s up to you to discuss who pays which bills, if the car is thrown in, tell insurers – who love houses not being left empty – and agree whether to leave dinner on arrival and a cleaner before departure.

What began in the 1950s as a way for time-rich, cash-poor teachers and academics to pass summer breaks or sabbaticals has burgeoned with the internet. Almost without trace – since word spreads from one devotee to another – swapping has become a growth area in the beleaguered travel industry. Before the credit crunch and recession it was doing well: now it’s rampant. This year the National Childbirth Trust has seen an 82 per cent increase in swaps; Gumtree (be warned, the site groups permanent exchanges with holidays) claims a 61 per cent upturn.

You can swap a Jewish home for another with separate kosher fridges, or a Christian one where helpful neighbours will point you to the right church. “People feel comfortable exchanging with like-minded people because it is all about trust,” says Ken Russell, a lecturer who started Home from Home, for gay and lesbian swaps.

There are eco-minded swaps, ones for oldies who need bath rails and homes with ramps for wheechair users. Via the NCT or Mumsnet, parents can arrive to find high chairs, cots, toys and DVDs to amuse over-excited children at 5am. Energetic green types could try Wwoofing: bed and board in exchange for fruit-picking and goat-milking on organic farms in 88 countries.

For the brave, there is also couch surfing, where you stay free in someone else’s home. “It’s absolutely not a dating agency, it’s a cultural exchange,” says UK ambassador Alain Sato, one of more than a million people in 232 countries who have couch-surfed or hosted visitors. References are taken to avoid Norman Bates encounters, though it might be wise to avoid those who put exclamation marks after their “couch available” advertisement. Generally swaps are planned months ahead, but Home Base Holidays (3,000 members; 23-year pedigree) or UK Holiday Swap Shop (launched in January) have “urgently wanted” sections.

Home Base features a house on Lake Atitlan, Guatemala, facing a volcano. Less exotic (and cheaper to reach) is a barn conversion in Northumberland on UK Holiday Swap Shop’s “desperately seeking” list. Anyone seeking an autumn break, who lives in Battersea, might also look on Gumtree at the South African house with a view of cavorting Humpback whales. “Happy to swap for something really quite simple,” says the owner, “as long as it’s nice and clean…”

Hmmm, clean. That was one reason why my attempt to swap failed. Our cluttered, dog-hair coated house would never pass muster by the white glove brigade, although Sinclair Macleod, a seasoned Glaswegian swapper, says: “See it as an excuse to get rid of rubbish.”

But inflexibility was my problem. I wanted Europe. I was offered Australia, New Zealand and nowheresville bits of America. I wanted the summer holidays; I was offered term-time. Swapping seems to work best for retired people who can go anywhere, any time; young families, not tied by the school holidays; and those who enjoy getting to know “the real” wherever, rather than ticking the sightseeing boxes.

It doesn’t matter if your home is embarrassingly ordinary. Foreigners seeking an exchange usually have family in Britain so any place will do if it is near cousin Sarah’s wedding.

Swapping has many devotees like John and Doreen Kennet, a retired couple who have clocked up 36 exchanges. “We recently tried a cruise,” he says. “It was relaxing and the food was great, but we both agreed it did not compare with exchange holidays.”

ROGER and Jo Piercey, and their children Luca, 18, Arendall, 16 and Ethan, 12, started exchanging when Luca was 18 months old. Since then they have done one almost every year.

“It works brilliantly,” says Roger, a fitness trainer. “Mostly we have swapped cars, too. The hardest thing about it is manically cleaning the house before you go. Trashing the house isn’t the worry you might imagine. Cars do get the occasional scratch, which you have to be relaxed about.”

They’ve been back to one eight-bedroom lakeside house in New Hampshire, with three acres of woodland, three times. Another hit is a house in Florida, with a pool and deck overlooking the sea. “We sat for hours watching dolphins play,” says Roger. Wouldn’t the children rather stay in hotels? “No,” says Luca, “this is much better.”

Exchanges have been arranged through Home Base Holidays – mostly to the US because Jo, an osteopath, comes from the East Coast. “We’ve found it works best when you exchange with similar families, many of whom have become friends.”

They offer a four-bedroom house in Cookham Dean, a Berkshire village on the Thames whose olde worldeness appeals to Americans, as does the 40-minute connection to London. They also offer use of a flat on the Dorset coast.

However, this year, despite being “inundated” with offers, they are going camping in France.